


sinister intent

by shadowfell



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dark, Gen, Not X-Men: Apocalypse Compliant, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:28:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27457231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowfell/pseuds/shadowfell
Summary: A new student arrives at the Xavier school - and with him, a dark conspiracy that brings insight into Alex Summers' past.(a highly self-indulgent summers brothers backstory fic)
Relationships: Alex Summers & Scott Summers, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk how to exactly explain the setting of this fic. i mean, it's post xmen first class, but like, ambiguously fanon with cherik still together. the apocalypse kids are all here, more or less, but basically nothing else from apocalypse is. 
> 
> this fic technically started as me adjusting scott's backstory to be more in line with the comics and devolved into me just writing weird scott whump very quickly, so, it's mostly just self-indulgent trash. read at your own discretion.

It's Hank who gets the alert, that someone's loitering outside the gate. He doesn't pay much mind to it at first - hardly the first local kid dared to approach the doors of the Xavier school. It is a kid, after all, one who looks pretty young, and even if he did try to do something like climb the fence, more a danger to himself than the school. But, the more he watches, the less certain he is that's the case.

Which is how it comes that he and Charles and Sean and Raven all end up sitting in the control room for the mansion's security, watching the kid shift back and forth, not quite getting close enough to approach the front gates.

"Maybe he wants to enroll?" Hank suggests. "He appears to be the approximate age for manifestation."

"No way," Raven tells him. "There's hardly anyone who knows about us, and they would've come with, or called ahead. This is probably just another kid on some dare."

"Kids on dares usually have friends with them," Sean points out.

"He could be trying to rob us," Charles suggests, with a playful smile.

"You could always try and read his mind," Raven shoots back.

"Contrary to public opinion, I don't actually read everyone's minds all the time," Charles tells her. “But I may as well try."

He reaches out, stretching beyond the school all the way to the front gates, and touches the boy's mind. He barely needs to initiate contact, to feel the uncertainty and worry coming off of him in waves, but as soon as he reaches to listen in on his thoughts, he finds a barrier.

"That's strange," he murmurs. "I can't read his mind."

"So, he is a mutant?" Hank asks.

"No, it isn't like a telepath's mind," Charles says, exploring the blocks carefully, trying to be as unintrusive as possible. "Some of it appears to be proper defenses, but most of it seems to be natural? Fascinating. I can catch some aspects - he's trying to decide whether or not to come to the door - but most of it is hidden. I could read it, but I would need to press far deeper than normal."

"Please don't adopt this kid just so you can study his brain," Raven says, deadpan.

"What's all the commotion?" Alex asks, leaning into the room.

"There's some kid at the front gate," Sean says. "We're trying to guess why he's here."

Alex takes a look at the screen that shows the cameras, and takes several long moments to stare at the boy. "Scott," he murmurs, eyes wide, and before they know it, he's running out of the room.

"Well, that was certainly unexpected," Hank says, as they start to run after him.

* * *

Scott is, apparently, Scott Summers - Alex's younger brother - which they all learn as the two embrace tightly at the front gates, Alex teary eyed, the most emotional any of them have ever seen him.

They take the reunion inside, both brothers sharing what happened over the past several years with eachother. Alex recounts most of what had happened to him, between foster families and his time and juvie, and Scott shares that his adoptive parents are dead, the reason why he's spent the past several months trying to track Alex down. It doesn't take long for them to talk about mutation - Scott's powers seem to be similar to Alex's, but coming out in concentrated form from his eyes instead of a full body blast.

Charles is listening to the words, as they talk about the school and the X-Men, but most of his focus is on Scott, on the impressions he's able to get from the boy's mind, and from everything he can pick up from his body language.

He isn't reacting right, Charles thinks. The boy is being invited by his long lost big brother to live in a mansion and attend a school for people like him, for free, and he doesn't seem excited in the least. Not happy, not even relaxed, just the same sense of worry that he'd had at the gates.

Maybe it's that he doesn't believe it, Charles thinks, that it's too good to be true. But he isn't asking Alex any questions, isn't trying to convince him to leave, doesn't seem to be distrustful of Charles or anyone else in the room.

"Maybe he''s harboring some internalized anti-mutant sentiments," Hank suggests, as they talk quietly in the hallway, looking through the doorway to where Alex and Scott continue to reconnect. "If his mutation is really like Alex's, then he may just be rejecting the idea that it's something to be proud of, thus, not accepting the school while still believing in Alex, and in your good intentions."

"Nah," Raven says. "You might be right about him hating himself, but the reason he's standing out to you is that you can't read is mind."

"I can read his mind," Charles says. "I just can't get much. It doesn't make any sense. He's a kid, who clearly hasn't been living well, and he's been told that he gets to live with his long lost big brother in a mansion full of people like him, who want to help him. Why wouldn't he be ecstatic?"

"You have a way too big ego," Raven says. "Not everyone has to like this school. Since when were you a psychologist anyways?"

He isn't. But he can feel the boy's emotions, and that has to count for something. 

There's something wrong about him," Charles mutters. 

"Are you going to send him away?" Raven asks.

"This institution was designed to help every mutant, regardless of abilities, or background, or potential danger," Hank argues. "What right do we have, to turn him aside?"

"I'm not going to send him away," Charles says.

"He's Alex's brother, we can't just leave him out on the streets, to whatever past has left him so scarred as to draw your attention."

"He said the kid stays, Hank," Raven says.

"I think we should keep a close eye on him," Charles tells them. "Don't tell Alex, he doesn't need to worry about this, yet."

"You think he's with the Hellfire Club or something?"

"I don't know what to think," Charles says. "It's probably nothing, but we should keep an eye on him anyways, even if it's just helping him to adjust."

"Are we including Erik in this?" Hank asks.

"Of course I'm going to tell Erik," Charles says.

"He's going to yell at you," Raven says.

"Of course he's going to yell at me," Charles says, and takes another glance at Scott. He sits so stiffly, so full of tension, in contrast with the smile across is face. The thick red lenses block any sight of Scott's eyes, and he can't help but wonder if they'd match the smile.

He wants more than anything to help this child, who seems so young, who has seen so much, like so many mutant children.

Raven is probably right, he's just on edge because he's so used to grazing people's minds on a casual level. Hank's probably right, the tension Scott has is simply internalized self hatred manifesting as uncertainty, with nothing more sinister than institutionalized oppression at work here.

Thinking that doesn't shake the doubt from his mind, however.

* * *

Erik agrees to keep an eye out, reluctantly. They manage to avoid a fight on the ethics of training children in combat, and a fight on the effects of trauma on children, and a fight on what they should do for dinner, but only barely.

Academically, Scott fits in to the school easily enough. Whatever his background, he isn't too far behind academically. He's advanced in mathematics, and only seems to be falling behind in History, but no more than could honestly be expected from the standard American school system. He's slow to adjust to the other students, but only enough in that he seems rather shy, and after the first few weeks, they start to fall into place and he makes friends.

After the first danger room session to assess his powers, it's clear he doesn't have much control over his powers, even wose than Alex had - the energy from his eyes comes out constantly, only blocked by the glasses. Charles tries meditating with him, to work through the control issues, but even after the first, he's not entirely certain it's one they'll ever be able to work around.

Despite this, his training sessions show that he's got incredible control over using them. He lines up impressive ricochet shots and is able to narrow and widen the beams with an ease that only improves when they finally finish the visor for him.

"He's a good fighter," Erik reports, after the first few Danger Room sessions. "This isn't his first time, doing this."

"From what he's told us, we know he was homeless for a while," Charles points out.

"It's one explanation. If he was in a gang, getting into regular fights."

"What were you thinking?" Charles asks.

"That the Hellfire Club would have the resources, to make training simulations like this," he says.

He'd been coming to a similar conclusion, with all the implications it brought with, that the Hellfire Club - or something else, something worse, maybe - might be training mutant soldiers. Children. Just like they pretend they aren't doing.

"I'm going to move him into the group simulations," Erik says. "He's got a good mind for tactics alone. It'll be interesting to see how he adapts."

Charles nods,


	2. Chapter 2

"Scott, I'd like to look around in your mind," Charles says. "I'm hoping to find the reason why your powers are so uncontrollable - it won't hurt, you shouldn't even notice it. Would that be okay?"

"Of course," Scott says, almost immediately. Charles can't help but find his voice similar to the way he sounds in the Danger Room, following the orders of another student without hesitation, even when it's clear he thinks they're wrong. The casual agreement to the invasion of his privacy.

He purses his lips, and tries not to feel guilty. He's doing this to help Scott heal, after all. It doesn't stop his mind from replaying a hundred arguments he's had, before, about the ethics of telepathy and informed consent.

At a brush, Scott's mind feels like an injury. Soft skin, like a normal brain, but wit defensive spikes of criss crossed scars, large impenetrable scabs, and bruises which, when pressed, send out a sharp and steady emotion, a painful one, that lingers even after the pressure is released.

Parts of it remind him of Erik's mind. Most psychic defenses are walls, where his is a wrapping of barbed wire. The bruises remind him of Emma's defenses, hidden landmines of pain, but those were deliberate, planted, where everything about Scott feels organic, instinctive.

They're easy enough to pass through. The natural defenses function less to keep people out, and more to keep Scott in - making casual contact difficult, but not providing much hindrance, especially not since he isn't trying to hide the intrustion. There's no push against him, either, which may be a sign that Scott truly is alright with this, or just that he has a tight control of his mind.

Deeper in, he starts to find walls, structure, some constructed, others simply the nature of an organized mind. He opens a door, and steps into a building, that appears to be a mix of the Xavier School and other locations - an orphanage, he'd guess, and pieces of a hospital. Nothing that even resembles a home.

He looks through various of the doors in the halls that snake away from the main foyer. Down one hall, he sees fights he recognizes from the training session. Down another, classes, and another experiences interacting with the students. Recent memories, it seems, and with the maze like quality, it would take a decent expedition to find the long term memories.

Instead, he heads to his office, or, what seems to mostly be his office. The layout is mostly his, the walls lined with his bookshelves, but the furniture a mix with what has to be from Scott's memories. Behind the desk, there is a large portrait on the wall, that seems to show two children, falling down through a stormy sky, that moves as he watches it.

He pulls a book off the shelf, pulls it down. The letters are in a language he doesn't know, can't even recognize. As he brushes his hands over the words, he gets flashes, emotions, occasionally pictures, to faint and distorted to read. Thoughts, he thinks, or memories, or something of the sort.

The shelves are all labeled, again in words he cannot read. Unlike most offices, unlike his office, everything is sharply organized. He rifles through the files at the desk, in the cabinet, pages and pages of unreadable text, but with some pictures. There's a set of files on people Scott knows, with profile shots, and on some, animated images, embedded into the papers.

There are several he doesn't recognize. A few have the same images, but none he can really decipher without the text. Most have nothing, which could mean they're human, as far as Scott knows, or that there simply was no visual aspect. His own file, brief, has nothing visual. How would you show telepathy, after all?

Most of the strangers seem to be children his age. None of the adults look like anyone from the Hellfire club, although there are more than a few who definitely aren't doctors or social workers.

What he needs is to find a way to translate. That's never been an issue before, but then again, he's used to minds that are far more visual.

He turns back to the portrait. In his office, there's a safe behind it - and it's a common enough feature. He pulls at it, and it swings, leading towards a long, dark hallway.

He walks down the hall.

There isn't a noticeable ramp, but he can't help but shake the feeling of descent. The further down, the deeper he can feel a slurry of emotions. Fear, panic, anxiety. They're easy enough to push aside, but it still leaves him on edge.

By the bottom, it is thick, full of self-hatred. Despair.

He opens the door annyways.

At first, he thinks it might be a memory. It seems to be a laboratory, with banks of controls. A man he recognizes as one of the counsellors or doctors fiddles with various dials.

A section of the lab has been destroyed, cut in half by jagged rocks, and the labels are all in the unreadable language seen in the office.

"Can you read this?" he asks the man.

"No," he replies. "I've been relying on eperimental method for that.

It isn't a memory, it's another room, a visualization of the brain as a control room, he supposes. Which would make the man some aspect of Scott, but - Scott would be able to read his own language, wouldn't he?

He moves first. Attacks. Draws a sword, and the room falls aside, as they stand on the astral plane. The man looks different, as if he's drawn of chalk lines. On his forehead is a red diamond, and he wears a cape of vines in black that seems like it would fade into the darkness of the astral plane, but which instead stand out as brightly as the white of his skin.

"You're the telepath," he says. "The one who taught him, to get those barriers."

"I'm amazed at how wrong you are," the man says. "I think you've overstayed your welcome."

He's fought on the astral plane, before, but this fight, it's over in an instant, and he's falling. He pulls back, in an instant, finding himself back in his body, reeling.

"Professor, are you alright?" Scott asks. 

"I'm fine," he says, gripping the sides of his chair to pull himself together. "How are you feeling, Scott?"

"I didn't feel anything," Scott tells him. "Did you figure out how to fix me."

"I'm sorry," Charles says. "But I think I might have a lead. We're done for the day."

He waits until the sound of the door closing to keel over.

* * *

"Alex," Charles says, "I wanted to ask you about Scott."

"Yeah?" Alex asks. "Have you made any progress in figuring out what's up with his powers?"

"I have, I'm fairly certain that it's related to brain damage he has - and I wanted to ask, about Scott, what he was like before and after the plane crash."

"There isn't much I can tell you. He was always way smarter than me - wanted to be a pilot like our dad, really focused and driven, even as a little kid. He was shy, yeah, but we grew up in Alaska, it's not like we had a lot of kids our age around. He definitely got worse, without me around, but he's getting better."

"Why did you leave?"

"I didn't leave," Alex shoots back, almost immediately. "I would never leave him, Charles. They split us up. I was in the hospital for like a year after the crash, he got adopted or whatever, but they couldn't take me, I guess."

"That was the last time you saw him, then? Right after the crash, when he got adopted?"

"No, he - he visited a few times, while I was in the hospital. But I think they had to move or something, a few months before I got released. I don't exactly have the best memory, what with, you know, being a kid who had just survived falling out of a freaking airplane."

Charles leans back in his chair, frowning.

"I don't see what all this has to do with his powers not working," Alex says. "I mean, I get that the crash probably messed with that, but he's still Scott. He didn't change."

"Of course he didn't," Charles says. "And he's fitting in with the school excellently. I'm fairly certain that all that's been affected is his powers. I'm hopeful that Hank and I can find some way to reverse it, but brains are very delicate things."

"Yeah," Alex says, "Thanks for. You know. Trying to help."

"It's what we're here to do, Alex," Charles says. And he doesn't even feel like he's lying.


	3. Chapter 3

It isn't the first mission Scott goes on. It isn't even a mission they expect to be complicated, or dangerous. Like most of what they send the students on, it's looking for a kid they think is a mutant who's disappeared, in this case from an orphanage - and not one that either Scott or Alex was ever at, or even near.

"Don't bring Alex," Scott say. There isn't any emotion on the edge of his mind, or on his face, just a flat statement.

"What?" Charles asks. "Scott, do you know something? If you have any information about he mission-"

But Scott doesn’t say anything else. Not to him, or to Erik, or to Raven, or to Alex, or to Jean or the other kids, or to anyone at all.

"Should we pull Alex?" Charles asks. 

"We can't pull Alex," Erik says. "He goes on all the missions. He's going to want to ask why, and there isn't anything we can say that would stop him. Not if Scott's going as well."

"Should Scott be going, then?" Charles asks.

"No, I want him there," Raven says. "Him being there means that we might get some answers."

It’s only luck that keeps Alex from going. He catches a nasty cold that keeps him home, and even then, he still wants to go, practically needs Hank to tie him to his bed, that’s how much he doesn’t like Scott being on missions without him. Charles knows that there’s no way that Scott could’ve made Alex sick - if Scott had tried to keep him back, he wouldn’t have told them, and it would’ve been a physical injury, an accidental broken leg. 

That doesn't stop it from feeling like too big of a coincidence.

* * *

“Is this a test,” Jubilee asks, staring at Erik.

“It’s not a test,” Erik says. “Just because Mystique is field leader doesn't mean I can't supervise your missions.”

“That sounds like it means this is a test,” Kurt says, and looks to Mystique. “You’d tell us if this was a test, right?”

“This is a mission,” Raven says. “And Erik knows better than to use my missions as tests, doesn’t he?” Erik smirks, as he heads to the cockpit.  


Scott sits in the copilot's chair. They don't let him actually pilot the plane, because he's still a child, but Erik is fairly certain Scott's a better pilot than him or Raven. He also knows that, for all he's improved, Scott feels more comfortable on his own, even if he'd never say it.

They're up in the air, leveling out, when without preamble, he asks, softly, "Is this a trap?"

Scott sits there for a while, face blank, but still clearly debating what to say. "I don't know," he says, finally, the only thing he's said on the mater since asking about Alex. It's the best answer he could've hoped for, all things considered.

He doesn't look back on the rest of the trainee team, at their casual cheerfulness. He can hear Raven doing her charles impressions and te ensuing laughter, can hear various music being played through walkmans and hummed along to in a concordant mess. 

They're good kids. Happy kids, despite what the world has thrown at them. Eri can't help but regret, that he's bringing them along into what he knows will be a fight.

* * *

The orphanage is, frankly, creepy. It's rundown, and grey, and while it's far from abandoned, it certainly feels like it.

It’s night, and they sneak in. They check the missing child’s room, and the tiny thing that passes for a nurse’s office, and the dingy cafeteria. It’s not Scott that finds the secret door, Erik notes, but he’s the one who started searching near the bookshelf, even if Jean was the one who pulled the actual book. 

So, they follow the labyrinthine tunnels, down, down, down into the dark.

There are security measures - robots - which come online as they head deeper, but they are easily dealt with. He takes out most of them, but the students do their share. They’re quick to react, and their training has paid off. 

They make it, finally, to what looks like a lab. None of the missing children are in sight, in fact, there’s only one person in the room. Before them stands a man in black, a cape of thin strips hanging down his back, and as he turns, his skin is chalk white, red diamonds on his chest and forehead.

“Scott,” the man says, sounding bored, “deal with the children.”

“Yes, Sinister,” Scott replies. He pivots quickly - not as quickly as he would, anticipating an order, but quicker than it takes any of the kids to realize quite what his response means - and lets out a concussive blast right in to the center of them. 

Erik yells at them to get out of there, as he and Raven turn towards this man - Sinister - all his rage focused on a single target, tearing the robotic defenses apart to form his weaponry.  


It isn’t enough.


	4. Chapter 4

Scott stands at attention, his back stiff, his face blank. “They were able to incapacitate me using a psionic blast and plasmatic explosives while the teleporter took them off base. The jet was gone by the time control was regained.”

Sinister doesn’t look over at Scott, from where he stands, gazing between a computer screen and the operating tables before him, where both Erik and Raven are laid out. If he is angered by Scott’s failure, he does not show it.

"Report on the trainees," he asks. 

“Kurt Wagner, code name Nightcrawler. Teleporter, primarily short distance. Physical mutation gives advanced agility and a maneuverable tail. Jubilation Lee, code name Jubilee, creates plasma explosives of variant size and intensity. Ororo Munroe, code name Storm, weather manipulation, flight. Jean Grey, code name Marvel Girl. Telepath and Telekinetic. More adept at telekinesis than telepathy in combat situations.”

"And what do you predict they do next?"

"Return to the school. Charles Xavier will plan a rescue mission with the remaining X-Men, which will likely be enacted within a week. The trainees will likely be brought along as backup, and if not allowed officially, will make their way here regardless."

"Alex Summers will be among them?" Sinister asks, and doesn't even wait for a reply. "The prodigal son returns." He laughs. "Do you think Logan will be on the team?"

"Unlikely, but not impossible," Scott reports. "He hasn't kept contact with the school, but Xavier may have other means of tracking him."

"Victor should be able to take lead without getting too distracted, then," Sinister remarks. "A week gives me plenty of time to, well, meet my newest test subjects." He turns to walk between the two operating tables. "Now, where to begin. Scott - analysis?"

"Mystique," he says, after a moment. "Allowing Magneto's abilities to become active for study is too dangerous, given the uncertainty in when the X-Men will come, whereas Mystique's powers present minimal threat for observation."

"I'll admit to taking a certain amount of pleasure in vivisecting a blue shapeshifter," Sinister remarks, laughing.

"Go fuck yourself," Raven spits at him, pulling against the bonds that keep her strapped to the table. 

"You know, it's not nearly as satisfying as you would think," Sinister says. "Scott, go fetch the scalpel tray for me."

* * *

“Calm down,” Charles says, an outstretched hand. Jean is crying, and runs to him, hugging him tightly, and she's not the only one crying, or on the edge of it. “Tell me what happened.” Tell me where Erik is, he wants to ask, where Raven is. What happened with Scott.

“There was a lab, underneath the orphanage,” Ororo says. “We made it through the defenses, and got to the main area, where there was a man, waiting.”

“Mister Sinister,” Jean supplies. 

“Scott turned on us!” Jubilee shouts out. “This guy just tells him to deal with us, and then, bam, lasers! We tried to fight him off, but it was way harder than in training, so Kurt -”

“I grabbed everyone, and got us out of there,” he says. “Magneto and Mystique were still fighting with Sinister and the robots, and I couldn’t get close enough to grab them.”

“Scott was able to follow us, quickly, but at that point, we were recovered enough from the shock,” Ororo adds. “Jubilee and Jean were able to time an attack together, and then Kurt teleported us again, all the way upstairs and out of the orphanage. I helped lift the plane off quickly, and we were in the air by the time he was upstairs.”

“You didn’t wait, for Magneto or Mystique?” Charles asks. 

“Jean said -” Jubilee starts, but she stops there. They all look down, embarrassed, apologetic. 

“Scott was right on our tail,” Kurt supplied. “Jean told us we couldn’t do it alone, and that we needed to get backup.”

“Jean?” Charles asks. 

“Scott told me,” she said, and everyone turns to her, eyes wide. “That we needed to go. Leave him behind. Get back up.”

“You were talking to Scott?” Charles asks, eyes wide. “This man, Mister Sinister, he’s a telepath-”

“Scott and I-” Jean starts. “We have a - I can talk to him without you knowing. We set up this, kind of, mental link, and it’s there, behind a locked door, kind of? And when he - as soon as we got to where Sinister was, he told me to run.”

“Show me,” he says, and she does. 

_ Run, he says, and she’s too distracted to fully dodge the blast that comes, even though she sees him, raising his hand to the visor, and a part of her knows it’s coming. Her arm is hit by it. _

_ Scott, she says. Why? His face is blank - as blank as ever, eyes hidden by the visor - and his mind is blank too, emotionless. Well, the emotions are hidden, from both the man in black and her. _

_ I don’t have time to explain, he tells her. You need to get out of here, now.  _

_ She grabs Kurt’s mind, and tells him to get them back, out of there, where they can regroup, refocus, whatever. She pulls them all together, quickly, and then they’re out of there.  _

_ Now do you have time to explain? she asks. They’re still in the building, in the tunnels beneath the orphanage. She can feel him getting closer, as she helps them plan something, anything.  _

_ I need to get you all out of here, he tells her. This is the easiest way. _

_ We could have fought him, together, she suggests.  _

_ I can’t, he says, and she doesn’t question him on that. You need to get back to Xavier’s.  _

_ What about Magneto and Mystique? she asks. _

_ They can’t beat him, he says. They’re already - he doesn’t continue that thought, and she isn’t sure whether that is for better or for worse. Get back to Xavier’s, get the X-Men, and then come back.  _

_ What about you?  _

_ Hit me with a telepathic blast, and have Jubilee use her fireworks on me, at the same time. It'll give you the time you need to escape.  
_

_ I meant leaving you, she says, and she can feel the surprise in him. I know you can’t - we could beat you, take you back, get you out of here.  _

_ Back up is coming. Soon. You don’t have the time, Scott tells her. There’s an underlying feeling, there. She doesn’t have time to decipher it, doesn’t have time to do anything, before she and Jubilee unleash their attack.  _

_ Scott curls up, falls down, and she wants to comfort him. Wants to - but she can’t. So she grabs Kurt again, and they run. And they run. And they run. _

Charles nods, as Jean closes off the memory. He can’t help but feel bad. Scott isn’t - well, it would be wrong to say Scott isn’t a traitor, but he may not be as far gone as they had feared.  



	5. Chapter 5

“Why didn’t you tell me!” Alex screams, and his voice is so loud someone has to hear them. “He’s my brother! I deserved to know!”

“We weren’t certain, not until this mission,” Charles says. It’s an explanation, but even he knows it isn’t a good one. “If I had told you, and been wrong-“

“Then you should have told me before sending him off on this mission!” Alex yells. 

“You were sick,” Charles says. “You couldn’t have helped the team - you would have gotten yourself captured by this Mr Sinister, and the rescue would have been even harder. I sent Erik. I didn’t expect we would be dealing with someone who could beat both him and Raven in a fight.”

“I can’t lose him again, Charles!” Alex bangs his fist against the wall. 

“I need to know,” Charles says. “You spent time in orphanages, and Scott wanted to make sure you didn’t go on this mission, that you wouldn’t get caught by him. Do you recognize Sinister, at all?”

“No of course-“ Alex stops, and stares at the image, closely. “That’s - that looks almost like Dr. Milbury. Way paler and with shorter hair but - seriously? Doctor Milbury is the bad guy? He was one of the main doctors, at the hospital, he -“ Alex furrowed his brow, concentrating. “Why would Scott be working with him? They’ve never even met - he and his foster dad would never stay and talk to the doctors, always left before Milbury came by.”

“You’re sure about that?” Charles asks. “Scott’s foster parents always left before Essex showed up?”

“Yes he-“ Alex paused. “It was always his dad, he would always tell Scott they needed to go. They would never stay to meet with Dr. Milbury, even if he was right on his way. They missed him by minutes at least once.” He turns to look at Charles. “You don’t think he knew, about this Sinister guy, way back-"

“There’s evidence Scott spent time around a telepath,” Charles says. “I assumed it was Sinister, but if it was his foster father, trying to keep him safe from Sinister, that would make more sense.”

“But it doesn’t explain why he didn’t come and visit while I was, unless -“ Alex bangs his head against the wall. “While I was living out a happy childhood with them, Scott was - this Sinister guy had him! I should’ve saved him, should’ve-“

“There’s nothing you could have done,” Charles says. “There’s no way you could have known where he was, or what was happening, and there’s no way you could have saved him on your own.”

“I should’ve been there for him,” Alex says. “I'm his older brother, it's my job.”

“Then you need to go be there for him now,” Charles says. “You need to prepare yourself for what may be the hardest fight yet.”

* * *

Although he knows he should, he doesn’t actually tell the trainees they need to stay behind. After all, he needs to bring Jean, and Kurt will be very useful when it comes to rescuing Erik and Raven, and so forbidding Ororo and Jubilee seems...wrong. And it isn’t as if they would force themselves to come anyways. 

It is undoubtedly different from whatever the flight last time had been. Everyone is quiet and serious, even the children, who normally are difficult to keep still. There is the worry in the air, about Raven and Erik, but mostly about Scott. He’s been with them for only a few months, but he’s part of the team. 

One thing is certain. They aren’t going to be leaving anyone behind.  


* * *

“It seems they’ve finally arrived,” Sinister says, looking at the plane which approaches on the screen. “I was getting impatient.”

“They’ll beat the Marauders,” Scott says. It’s the first thing he’s said in days. 

“Really?” Sinister looks surprised at that. “How certain are you of this?”

“Ninety five percent,” Scott says. “Fifty, without any serious casualties.”

“Even with the defensive systems? The possibility of hostages?” Sinister asks. 

“I took out Scrambler and Vertigo,” Scott replies. Sinister doesn't bother to try and hide his shock. 

“Both of them? Even with me in your mind? That’s very impressive, Scott,” he says, and offers up a smile. “I beat them myself. The Marauders do whatever damage they can, serve as distraction, and I finish the job.”

"Seventy five, Xavier makes it through the initial conflict without any serious injuries. He takes up the majority of your focus during the fight. Without assistance, you win, but not without cost. If Havok, Storm, and Marvel Girl all come with full force, they win.

"What are you suggesting?" Sinister asks. 

“Let them come. Leave,” Scott suggests. “Gather what research can be saved, and retreat to another base, where they won’t be able to find you. Better a lost fight than a lost war.”

“That hardly seems worth the risk,” Sinister says. 

“I’ll come with you,” Scott continues. “No defiance, no rebellion.”

“You overestimate your worth to me, Scott,” Sinister tells him. “Take offensive on the controls. Utilize everything short of lethal force to capture them, while I gather my research. If you can’t stop them, I will follow your little deal, and retreat. If I feel you’re holding back-”

“I know,” Scott says, and turns down the halls towards the control room. 


	6. Chapter 6

“You should have known better, Scott,” Sinister says, hand lacing in to his hair in some mocking gesture of sympathy. “This was how it was always going to end.”

"The most likely chance was that you fled," Scott replies. "The risk assessment still stands." He leans into Sinister's hand, maybe because the comfort truly means something to him, and maybe so that when the jerking grasp finally comes, he falls with it gracefully.

Sinsiter pulls Scott up enough his feet rise up off the floor. "I'd ask if it still stands, knowing what your punishment will be, but I can't imagine you didn’t predict that, well before you set about drugging Scrambler and Vertigo.”

“Don’t hurt him,” Jean says, groggily.

“Should I pick her?” Sinister asks. 

“You’ve already decided your choice,” Scott says, stiffly. “It isn’t her.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He sighs, and gazes up at the walls around them. The X-Men are all in metal bonds, each on a tilted lab table, a maudlin presentation. They’re all awake, but not quite there, still adjusting to the power inhibitors, recovering from being knocked out. “As interesting as Miss Grey may be, there’s hardly a study I’ve more looked forward to, or a punishment more severe to you,” he taps at the controls, and the system begins to move, and Alex is lowered from the wall, down to center stage.

Alex is more out of it than most of them are, but the inhibitors are removed, and it’s moments before he’s back in focus. “Scott,” he says, trying to sit up, thrashing against the metal bonds that hold him down to the table. 

“Parameters?” Scott asks, not looking down at his brother, face stiff. He places a cap over his hair.

“A simple examination of interior organs while his powers are active,” Sinister says. “Nothing you can’t handle alone.”

“He doesn’t have any painkillers.”

“Good eye for details,” Sinister replies. “He won’t get any.”

“That presents a risk of circulatory shock. I won’t kill him,” Scott says, still looking Sinister in the eyes, even as he places on the mask, adjusts the tools.

“Scott-” Alex says, and his eyes are wide, now. “Scottie, look at me, please,”

“I’ve prepared for that,” Sinister says. “A simple adjustment, he won’t go unconscious or into shock, no matter how high the pain gets.”

“No permanent damage?” Scott asks. 

“As if I would risk any of my specimens,” Sinister replies smoothly. “It’s well tested. The shield is up, any more questions and I’ll think you’re delaying the inevitable.”

“The tools have been treated against a full blast?” Scott asks. “The clothes?”

“What did I just say?” Sinister asks. 

“That isn’t an answer,” Scott replies. “If you won’t let me do my own prep work, at least let me make sure you’ve done yours.”

“You don’t have to do this, Scott,” Alex tells him. “I can handle whatever he throws at me. I promise.”

“They’ve been tested,” Sinister tells him. “You’ve been away too long. I don’t allow such back talk.”

“What level sterilization?” Scott asks. 

“Full. You really think I would risk letting him slip through my grasp?”

“You did once,” Scott replies. 

“When his powers were latent,” Sinister says. “I’m getting impatient, here, Scott.”

The first cut is clean, precise, deep. Alex surprises himself with the scream, shocked, by the fact it's  happening, by how much it hurts. He holds it in with the second cut, with the third, whimpering and pulling against the bonds that hold him down.

Scott doesn't say anything as he works, as his brother cries outt against the pain, he doesn't even flinch. Instead, he just ocntinues, making the deep, precise incisions across Alex's chest.

He sets the scalpel down, and calmly peels back the skin and flesh on Alex's chest, fastening it back and leaving his entire cavity exposed. He sticks gloved hands inside, gently, peering through the ribcage. Alex has stopped screaming, but the way his head is pressed back makes it clear that it's less a matter of the pain subsiding and more a matter of shock.

“No anomalous organs present,” Scott says, finally. “He’s been down here for too long to be at full power. He needs energy.”

“So? Give it to him,” Sinister says, not moving.

Scott turns and adjusts his visor, letting out a blast that hits Alex in the legs. Even knowing that Alex is immune to Scott’s power, that he just absorbs it it’s hard not to wince at the sight, at those blasts that could fell trees, break bones, smash walls. 

Then, he looks at Alex, whose face is scrunched, partially by the pain, but partially by the focus. “Stop trying to hold it in,” he says. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Alex chokes out.

“You can’t hurt me,” Scott reassures him. “You’re the only one who can be hurt here. Let it out.”

And then, the whole field is full of Alex’s power, pulsing and bright and red, without the control device emanating from everywhere, directionless, until he exhausts all of the energy Scott gave him, and the energy fades out, absorbed by the field. 

“Output comes from the skin,” Scott reports, “All redistribution goes through the skin, nothing visible from internal organs. Focus around the abdomen instead of upper chest, implication that the skin being seperated disturbed normal redistribution. Further analysis should require microscopic investigations of dermal layers.”

“How dull,” Sinister says, “but to be expected. Stitch him up, prepare skin samples, and transfer him to the tank. That will be all.”

Scott sews his chest back up with an unearthly silence, even as Sinister leaves the room. Alex, is finally unconscious, it seems, whatever ‘adjustment’ Sinister had made worn off, so he lies there, exhausted, spent. 

“Scott!” Pietro calls out, “he’s gone, get us down!” Scott doesn’t look up as he finishes the stitches and starts on the skin samples. 

“Oh, please, Scott,” Creed says, “let them down.”

“Help me carry him,” Scott says, not acknowledging either of them. 

* * *

“Is Alex going to be alright?” Jean asks, as soon as Scott walks in. They’re in proper cells, now, not strapped up against a wall. 

“Like this traitor even cares,” Sean grumbles, and kicks the wall, hard. 

“He should be fully healed in two days,” Scott says, calmly. 

“Was it worth it?” Erik asks. 

“The risk assessment stands,” Scott tells him. “It’s what Sinister was planning regardless. Reframing it as a punishment doesn’t change that fact.”

“I can’t believe you’re still talking like that. Risk assessment.” Pietro grumbles. “We haven’t lost yet, and here you are, giving up.”

“We did lose,” Kurt points out. “We very much lost. This is what a failure looks like.”

“Mixed success,” Scott corrects, and they all stare at him. “I got the children out.”

“You got the kids out?” Hank questions. “When? How?”

“Sinister was distracted. One of the marauders is squeamish about fighting children and was planning to leave regardless.” Scott turns. “Storm, your cell isn’t small enough to induce your claustrophobia, is it?” he asks. 

“Most rooms are,” Ororo replies, “but it is manageable.”

“So, no chance of powers overwhelming the collar,” Scott reasons. 

“If I had my lockpicks,” she suggests.

“Did you bring them?” he asks.

“They’re on the plane,” Ororo says. 

“It’s gone.” Scott sits down against the door of Jean's cell.

“You can break us out, though,” Kurt says. “Blast the cell, blast the collars, and we are out of here, ja?”

“I can’t,” Scott says. 

“You can’t, or you won’t?” Sean asks.

He sits there for a few moments in silence. “I can’t leave Alex.”

“You’re the one who-” Sean starts. 

“Be quiet,” Scott cuts him off. “Sabretooth is coming.”

They hear the footsteps moments later, loud and clanging, and the door opens, and the man called Creed is standing there. He grins, a wicked smile, fangs displayed.

“Knew I’d find you here, Scottie,” he says. “Plotting again?”

“I’m not as stupid as you are,” Scott says, standing up. “If we got in trouble for talking to subjects, you’d be dead by now.”

“You think you’re too valuable for me to hurt you, huh,” Creed continues. “You’re not wrong. Sinister would hate if I killed any of his latest set of lab rats.” He takes a few steps forward, still grinning. “But just cause I can’t kill you doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.”

His hand is wrapped around Scott’s throat, holding him high up and slammed against the wall. They all wince, but Scott doesn’t even seemed phased by what has to hurt like hell.

“Don’t make threats you won’t keep,” he says, simply.

“What makes you think I won’t follow through?” Creed growls, and he leans in real close.

Scott doesn't blink, nor does he smirk. Instead, he just stares Sabretooth down.

Creed drops him against the ground with a sound that seems to crack. "You're lucky I've got things to do today, runt," he says, with a grin full of teeth. 

“Who was that ugly mug?” Jubilee asked. 

“Victor Creed,” Scott murmurs. “Sabretooth. Head of the Marauders.”

“Should we be worried?” Kurt asks.

“No,” he says. “He won’t hurt you. He’s too afraid of Sinister to even try.”

“But he’ll hurt you,” Jean points out. 

“He will,” Scott admits. “Probably not here, though. Doesn’t want you pitying me. Lessens the effect.”

“Of the torture,” Pietro says. “Why can’t you just break us out of here?”

“Until LeBeau returns with the jet, you don’t have anywhere to go,” he says. “You can’t defeat Sinister. The only hope is running.” 

"No chance?" Hank asks.

"You don't beat Sinister. You can't arrest him, he just escapes. You can't kill him, he just comes back. All you can do is escape, and hope he doesn't find you again."

After a moment of silence, he stands up, wincing ever so slightly, before his stoic facade falling back into place.

"I need to go check on Alex," he says, and leaves it at that.


	7. Chapter 7

“Scott,” Charles says, surprised as the boy returns to the main room. “Are the others-”

“Sit,” Sinister says, gesturing to the chair, up against his desk, right in full view of where Charles is bound, like the boy’s on display. There is no order, to ignore him, but Scott doesn’t look up at him, face not moving at all upon the question asked. 

“Is it my turn, then?” Charles asks. 

“No, I know enough about the biology of telepaths,” Sinister says, casually. “You are here as my witness. And for the insight a new perspective brings.”

“How magnanimous of you,” he drawls. 

“Not really. I want to watch it break you, as I make them all mine, and never lay a finger on you.” He smiles. 

“If you wanted to make me feel helpless, you’d take this collar off,” Charles points out. “Prove I wasn’t a match against your telepathy.”

“I know I’m better than you,” Sinister replies, “but I will not underestimate you. You’re far from weak. Maybe later. When I can devote all my time to you.”

He finished the statement with a pat on the cheek, and sits down to the side of Charles, a bit forward and angled so that he’s not completely out of view, still close enough he only needs to lean over to touch.

“Report,” Sinister orders. Scott is sitting perfectly still, back straight, the way he always forces himself to sit, even on comfortable seats that beg to be sunk down into. He wonders how much of it is reactionary and how much a trained response on Sinister’s behalf. 

“Skin sample analysis revealed presence of unidentified organelle. Further biopsy and magnification have been prepared. Genomes uploaded to the catalogue, standard algorithms set to run. Both subjects are healing at an acceptable rate, subject Mystique rated for a 45% healing factor, slightly higher than estimated.”

“How are our other new arrivals fairing?” Sinister continues. 

“Adequate,” Scott reports. “Subject Storm experiences claustrophobia, all experience general irritation, as expected.” He paused. “Upon threat by Creed, most reacted with anger instead of fear.”

“Threat towards them,” Sinister asks, “or threat towards you.”

“Both.” 

“Scott,” Charles starts to say, “I know you don’t believe this but we’re going to get out of here. It’s-“

“Now, now,”Sinister interrupts him. “I was about to tell Creed to stop making threats, but I suppose we can do this instead.” He smiles, relishing in the look of horror spreading across Xavier’s face. “What did his brain look like, to you?”

He remains quiet, for a few moments, before he feels the pain thrust into his mind. His defenses remain, but without his powers, Sinister is able to scrape the outward edges of his mind with ease. “An office,” he finally says, uncertain as to why it matters. 

“I saw it much the same. I know you know so very few telepaths, but believe me, seeing the same mindscape, on different journeys, is very, very rare. Scott’s mind is a treat, in that regard. He’s got a very mathematic, analytic perspective that I’ve never seen before. Not to this extent.”

“Is that why you’ve made him your lab assistant?” Charles asks. 

“In a way. He fell out of my grasp, you know. I was supposed to have the pair of them, but instead, he slipped my grasp. It wasn’t until after Winters’ meddling I got to even touch his mind. At first, it was an annoyance, that I couldn’t deal with him the way I dealt with his brother, with most of my test subjects. I had to be, I suppose, messy.”

“The same way you’re going to be with us?”

"Not particularly. The rest of you are interesting, but you aren’t actually important to my goals, merely my research. Well, aside from Miss Grey,” and Charles could swear he sees just the slightest flinch from Scott. 

“The breaking part you mentioned is all for fun, then?” Charles asks. “Are you aware that you’re a complete psychopath?”

“I’ve been told as such. No, the fun is the research. The breaking down is useful. Who knows, maybe I’ll get a marauder or two out of the process. Scott, prediction.”

“Quicksilver, Nightcrawler, Banshee are the most likely converts, Magneto and Jean Grey least likely.”

“Just marvelous, isn't he? No, with you it will seem messy, but it will be quite methodical. Scott was an unwanted surprise. He’s incredibly important, you understand, their whole bloodline is. I could not erase myself from his mind, so I had to make him loyal. And it’s worked.”

“He ran away and joined us,” Charles pointed out. “He took out two of your Marauders when we attacked.”

“What make you certain I didn’t ask him to join you?” Sinister asks. “No, you’re right. Not loyal, yet, but obedient. That’s what matters, in the end.”

“Of course you’d think that.”

“My dear Xavier,if I could make him loyal with a snap of my fingers, I would. It is extremely important to me. But barring that, I accept obedience. And Scott is very, very obedient.”

“You don’t need to remind me. I watched him torture his own brother, at your request.”

“Experiment upon, let’s not be hasty,” Sinister says. “He’s is precise, but better at making judgement calls than a machine. His assistance has greatly improved the efficiency of my work. As much as I regret the way this had to come to pass, in a way I’m glad he could be mine.”

“He isn’t yours,” Charles says. “He’s his own person. And he knows it, I guarantee. You may think you have a hold over him, but you have nothing.”

“Scott,” Sinister orders, “prepare your left leg for a muscular exploratory.”

Wordlessly, Scott rolls up the leg of his pant. A quick glance around, and he picks up a scalpel off the desk, using it to swiftly and cleanly cut into the calf of his left leg. 

It’s hard to watch. As he was with his brother, he’s slow, methodical, makes deep cuts through the skin and pulls it back, pinning the thick flesh to the side. The gory display of muscles is clearly visible, from where Charles sits. The boy doesn’t so much as flinch. 

“He is mine,” Sinister murmurs. “Mind, body, and soul. Just as all of you will be, in time.” He turns back. “Good job, Scott. After you’ve cleaned up, you may leave.”

Scott nods, and stitches his leg back up, applying a strange wrapping to it. He placed the scalpel and pins in a machine on the far end of the room, before leaving without a word. 

“It is a good thing I enjoy your company, Xavier. I know Creed would be- well, doing something horrid, to shut you up.” He turned to the computer. “Ah, look! The initial algorithms have completed. Let’s see what secrets are hidden, within the genomes of your X-Men, shall we?”

* * *

They’re all exhausted, but none of them can sleep. How can they, caged like prisoners in this place. As soon as the door opens, even those who were dozing jump awake. It’s only Scott. 

“I saw the Professor,” he tells them. “He’s...untouched.”

“What happened to your leg?” Jean asks. The left leg is rolled up, and there is a tight wrap around it, unfamiliar, but most obviously a bandage.

“Just a cut. Nothing to worry about.” He sits down, and rolls it back. There is blood on the edges of his fingernails. 

“If Creed touched you-” Jean starts.

“It wasn’t him. I just cut myself. Honest.” He doesn’t sound particularly honest, but Jean seems to accept that, sitting back on the bed. 

Scott leans against the door of her cell, and she leans up against the glass. They don’t look at each other, but if it weren’t for the barrier, they’d certainly be touching, even if it was nothing more than fingers wrapped around bars.

“Do you want something?” Sean snarls. “Don’t you have a room or somewhere?”

"No,” Scott remarks. “This is the safest room in the compound.”

“Makes sense, Sinister would want to keep us safe,” Hank reasons. 

“Door’s the loudest,” he continues. “Hallway’s longer than most.”

“You’d be sleeping here even if it wasn’t,” Jubilee points out.

“I’d be sleeping in the medlab if I could,” Scott replies. 

Erik looks him over. “Is Sinister planning a repeat of that performance?”

“Not immediately. Your genome sequences have finished uploading, which should distract him for a day or two.”

“He has our DNA?”

“That isn’t what I asked,” Erik says. “I assume it was for Charles benefit, and not your own.”

“Everything Sinister does has multiple purposes. He has your DNA. The analysis will keep him too distracted to offer more than casual threats.”

“Why isn’t the Professor down here with us?” Kurt asks, suddenly. “Alex and Mystique are injured, ja, and they are in the medlab. But why is he not here as well? Is he-”

“The Professor is an equal. Another telepath, but more importantly, an expert on mutant genetics.”

“I’m an expert on mutant genetics, why am I not up there too, then?” Hank asks. 

Scott sits there for a moment, mulling something over. Like he knows the whole story, but isn’t sure how much to share. 

“He doesn’t like you very much,” is the only answer he gives. Hank splutters, and there’s more than one barked out laugh. 

“I can’t believe Sinister hates me, personally,” Hank continues. “I’ve never even met the man, before this whole disaster.”

“I’m pretty sure him hating you is a good thing,” Sean points out. 

“Is it something in my research? Has he been reading my research?” Hank asks. 

“Sinister is a shapeshifter and a telepath,” Scott says, simply. 

“He’s a shapeshifter?” Hank asks. 

“You watched him fight,” Scott points out. “His control extends to altering his appearance.”

They all sit there, still, for a moment, realizing exactly how powerful the man they face is. 

“So, what you’re saying is he chooses to look like that,” Pietro points out. 

“Is that the reason why he dislikes McCoy?” Erik asks. 

“No,” Scott admits. “I don’t know the full story, and speculation is dangerous. What matters is that the Professor is the only one here who isn’t an experimental subject.”

“If that includes the Marauders, and all the children that have passed through the orphanage, presumably several targeted, over so many years-” McCoy hums. “He probably has the most extensive database on mutation in the world.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to just hop over to the dark side for a database, Hank,” Sean says. 

“I’m not saying I’d join him - even if he didn’t apparently hate me, for whatever reason - just that it is probably worth looking into when we get out of these blasted cells and finally defeat the man.”

“If you try and fight, you’re just going to get captured again. The plan is to escape.”

“Oh, come on, we were so close to beating him, and as long as we have Magneto, and you’re helping us, we can totally crush him into the dirt!” Jubilee says. 

“I can’t help you fight them,” Scott says. “I can’t even interfere like before. But when LeBeau returns, I can get you to the jet, and you can leave.”

“We can leave,” Ororo corrects. "The X-Men don't leave our own behind."  


"Maybe you should," Scott says, and he leaves it at that.


End file.
